


Design on Dustin's Dime

by missmollyetc



Category: Power Rangers Ninja Storm
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The care, keeping, and reconstruction of the Watanabe clan following a tragedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Design on Dustin's Dime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).



> Thanks to [shihadchick](http://shihadchick.livejournal.com/profile) for the wonderful and timely beta. And the part where she talked me back into breathing. That was nice.

His father was a guinea pig. Cam grimaced, and shoved a plastic cover into the empty socket underneath his console. The most powerful master in three centuries—the _head_ of the Wind Ninja Temple—reduced to nibbling kibble, and shitting in a box lid scrounged from a supply closet. Monty Python was a fucking liar; this wasn't funny at all.

He shuffled out from under his workstation on his knees, dragging the box of socket covers out with him in his left hand. Ninja Ops was as wired as his father had allowed, but it had been set up with human inhabitants in mind, not rodents. And there was no telling how deeply Dad had been transformed. He still wore clothes over his fur, but he'd also taken to the wheel someone had dropped off last week pretty quickly. It...

Cam sighed, and leaned back onto his heels. Above him, the defrag counter on his monitor ticked over to thirty-four percent on the auxiliary CPU. He scrubbed his dusty hand through his bangs, and sneezed. Great. Cam wiped his hands off on his shirt, and then dragged the back of his left hand across his nose. Well, only twenty-three more sockets to go.

"You are quite diligent today, my son," Dad called out from his...from his enclosure.

Cam dropped his hands to his thighs, and pressed with all his weight, sinking his nails into the weave of his jeans. He swallowed, and then took a deep breath, straightening his spine.

"Somebody has to make sure Dustin doesn't electrocute us all with one mis-aimed slushee," he said, barely turning his face.

There, not even a tremor in his voice. His life may have become a farce; working as maintenance crew for three screw ups trying to save the world, when Dad couldn't even turn a--Cam grunted, and tightened his grip until the muscles in his thighs trembled. Right, right, that was next; he needed to focus. He had to convert all the doors in Ninja Ops from manual to automatic while they still had a supply of motion sensors, and then take out the knobs on the cabinets and install levers, or maybe magnets. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, and then another. Behind him, he could hear the squeak of the hinges on his father's wheel, and the rustle of tiny paws through shaved wood bedding and hay. Dad hadn't made much of an attempt at silent walking since he'd sprouted claws.

"And yet, the wise man knows that true diligence lies not in the preparation of safety, but the revelation of uncertainty," Dad said.

Cam ground his teeth. "Sure," he said finally. "I'll just keep that in mind."

"I'm sure you will, my son," Dad said, and the chuckle in his voice sounded the same as it had when Cam had been small, and scared of samurai in his closet.

A muscle in Cam's back throbbed in warning. He closed his eyes, and pictured his father standing behind him, tall and stern in his pale brown robes, with his clasped hands in front of him. Tiny claws scratched at the bedding in his father's box, and Cam forced his eyes open.

"I believe I shall tour the kitchen facilities you have already completed," Dad said.

Cam nodded, staring up at his computer screens. Dad's paws scuttled and scritched against the short shelving Cam had nailed to the walls in strategic places. Having Dad sca-- _walk_ across the floor was too dangerous. Cam might...the rangers might step on him.

Damn _everything_. Cam rocked backwards, and then surged to his feet, turning to his left just in time to see Dad's robes flutter around the corner. He detached his hands from his jeans, but they refused to relax at his sides. His fingernails dug into his palms. He looked down at the box of socket covers at his feet, and nudged it with the toe of his sneaker. Some genius he'd turned out to be; some hero.

The proximity alarm he'd installed by the waterfall entrance spun to life. Cam winced, flinching as the noise screeched into a higher decibel. Looks like he'd have to replace the lights, too. The red reflector was spinning all right, but the bulb was already dark. He hadn't thought to keep up maintenance on anything besides the computer systems, and none of the senseis had cared much either. Dad had only wanted the zords and the morphers anyway. He'd always said they were preparing for events outside their--

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and the scent of fresh mud and torn plants filtered through the air. The idiot never had mastered his ki enough to avoid detection, not even after a year. Cam turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. His palms stung a little as they slid over the thin cotton of his t-shirt sleeves.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, cocking his head.

Dustin paused on the threshold from the entrance corridor, a bulging blue and white plastic bag swung from his left hand, and clutching a giant bag of Katee's Promise Guinea Pig Pellets to his chest with the other. He puffed a stray tuft of dark hair out of his eyes, and grinned widely enough that Cam was almost blinded by his teeth. Maybe they should just hook up Dustin to a series of mirrors, rather than invest in the electrical system with money they didn't have. And there was another thing he'd have to deal with later. Cam winced, and Dustin's smile dialed down to merely unseemly.

"Cam, dude, how do you _always_ know it's me?" he asked, stepping into the main room.

"Same way I can tell when Shane and Tori come in here," Cam answered, tapping his nose.

"That is _so_ sick," Dustin said. "You gotta show me how you do that. I'd be, like, I'd be—”

"A ninja master?" Cam asked.

Dustin laughed as he walked towards him, and the smell rolled through the room, earth and greenery with a flattening splash of motor oil. Dustin raised the blue and white bag up to his face, knocking the side of his chin. The logo on the side read _Pet Central_ above the slobbering face of a cartoon dog. Cam tried to remember the breathing pattern Master Noriko had taught him during the last system upgrade.

"Pet toys," he said. "You bought my father pet toys?"

Dustin blinked, and lost the ridiculous child's grin smeared across his face. He dropped the bag back to his side.

"No, man, I mean, I did see like this pipe maze that looked hella awesome, but I mostly just thought—”

Cam stepped forward, and Dustin's mouth shut with an audible click of teeth. His knuckles turned white where he clutched the bag of—of _feed_ for Cam’s _father_. Cam's lips tightened, closing off a horrible, sharp pang at the back of his throat.

"You brought that fucking wheel, didn't you," he forced out. "The one that just...just showed up one morning when I was out re-aligning the zords?"

Dustin's eyebrows rose as he nodded, and that stupid—that fool's gold of a grin came out again. He opened his mouth, and Cam clenched his fists.

"Oh yeah, brah, that was totally me," Dustin said, words tumbling over themselves. The smell of earth deepened, and Cam's nose twitched. "Your dad was talking about all the..." Dustin scratched behind his ear, bumping the shopping bag against himself again. "The katas and stuff he wasn't doing anymore? And I said, "Well, high-five, Sensei dude, and he said, 'No, the white squirrel will never be whole without dirt,' and so I said 'that's totally, you know, that's what they tell me!' and then _he_ said--"

"Shut up," Cam said.

Dustin shook his head, and his dark eyes widened. "No, dude, I'm telling you, he totally—he said 'the man who has no...' Uh, he said, like, 'the man who has no work is fit for,' like, it's bad, and I was all—"

"Dustin," Cam said, grinding his words out between his teeth. "Shut the hell up."

Dustin sucked in a breath, and pulled two fingers across his lips. "Zipped," he mumbled.

It was like Cam was looking down at himself from the top of his own body. He knew his palms were smarting beneath his fingernails, knew his shoulders were at his ears, and his heartbeat was firing like a piston at his ribcage, and he just didn't _care_. He was at once entirely there, and completely gone.

"My father is not your pet, you got that?" Cam said, stepping forward.

He wasn't loud; he never let himself get _loud_ , but his voice seemed to ring out anyway, and suddenly Cam couldn't hear a thing, but rush of his own blood in his ears, and the crack in his voice.

Dustin nodded, licking his bottom lip.

"He is the master of our temple," Cam said, and took another step.

Dustin nodded again.

Cam took another step. Salt flashed across his tongue, bright and hot like a new penny, as pain flared along the side of his tongue. Dustin dropped both bags to the floor in a clatter, still nodding like a puppet on a string.

"He is a human being. He deserves our respect, and our loyalty, and our _admiration_ , and he does _not_ need anyone’s help."

"Dude, he kind of does," Dustin said.

His shirt was clutched in Cam's hands. Cam hadn't even realized he'd reached out, but his wrists ached with stress. Dustin tilted his face to look him in the eyes, and Cam wanted to beat the tar out of him. The nerve, the sheer gall in thinking he could do anything to help Dad, as if Dustin wasn't a power ranger—as if he hadn't survived because his carpool had been _late_. He hadn't seen a thing, hadn't helped anyone. He hadn't seen his friends, the teachers who'd helped raise him captured one by one, warped into a shape that fit inside a ball no taller than Cam's shin. He hadn't been pushed beneath a pillar like a child, and left behind to pick through the wreckage for anything, for any _one_ who might be left. No, he just got to play hero, and then buy toys for Cam's father.

Dustin swayed, and their elbows bumped together. "He really likes it, though?"

Cam shook his head, and pushed his fists into Dustin’s chest. "What?"

"And he, like, he needs it," Dustin said.

He met Cam's eyes, and scrunched up his nose. The smell of earth rose up around them like a fog, thick enough to choke. Dustin's hands rose up, and pet the backs of Cam's knuckles, awkwardly. His odd calluses caught along Cam’s skin.

"'Cause he...I mean, Cam, he can't go running anymore, you know?"

Cam’s vision dulled, and then refocused, as little aches bled back into his body. Dad's body had been destroyed in Lothor's attack; if he hadn't forced his ki to transform rather than dissipate, Cam would have had to bury him next to Sensei Milosch in the ruins Lothor had left in his wake. The only way he'd ever...ever...the only way Cam would see him again in his right form—strong and proud and unharmed again--would be if Dad managed the impossible twice over. Dad couldn't go running anymore. He probably never would.

It was like the world flipped and bucked beneath Cam's feet, with earthquakes threatening to break him at the knees and a dull throbbing in his head. Dustin looked at him, biting his lip and patting the backs of Cam's hands, rooted to the ground. He was enough of a ninja to have broken Cam's hold at any time. Cam was no power ranger, after all.

The floor settled, or maybe just the weight of his body was too heavy. He swallowed and tasted copper all the way down his throat. Cam forced his fingers to uncurl, feeling every overstretched muscle in his body, and let Dustin's t-shirt slip from his hands. Their hands hung between them, and Cam found himself staring at the grease embedded around Dustin's nails and in the creases of his knuckles. His thumb was wrapped in a dirty Band-Aid, and the nail was blackened.

Cam felt his lips twist, and the edges of his mouth crumple. "What..." he cleared his throat. "What other...what's in the bag?"

He stepped back, breathing in quickly, and their hands dropped apart. He twisted his fists at his sides, trying to loosen his wrists, while Dustin laughed a little unsteadily behind him, and fiddled with his bags. Cam looked down at Dustin’s feet, eyeing the way his weight never shifted as he moved.

"Dude, seriously, you would not believe the crap they make for pe—ani—that they make these days. I went in just to pick up the, uh, groceries, like sensei asked—"

Cam looked up, pushing his glasses into place with the back of his hand. His back ached; he wanted to sit down. "He asked you to pick up groceries?"

Dustin paused, tongue caught between his lips, and nodded. "Uh, yeah, well, it's on my way from Storm Chargers, you know? And I get all the flyers and the coupons and _I_ never need them, but I always feel like I should use them for some reason, 'cause they're really good deals, and it's like, damn, I'm wasting paper or something, but—"

Cam pinched the bridge of his nose, and Dustin's babble rumbled into a cough. Dustin’s eyes darted away over Cam’s shoulder, and then back to his face.

"I got this kit to make a house," he started up again, and held out the pet shop bag. "Not, like, a real house or anything, but like, it's better than a box, right? I mean..."

"A house," Cam said, drawing the word out until he could taste it. He let his hand fall back to his side, and hang there. "They make those?"

Dustin held the bag out to him, balancing the straps on his fingers, and grabbed the back of his own neck with his other hand. He shrugged, and then looked away and back again. His yellow t-shirt was still crumpled at the neck.

"They make everything, man," he said. "It's like Christmas 3-6-5, I'm telling you. And it came with, like, a hammer and some nails and some glue the store lady swore isn't toxic. I thought, I mean, I could, like, set it up or something? It kind of looks like you've got a lot miles left on your ride, if you know what I'm saying."

Dustin jerked his chin at the space over Cam's shoulder, and leaned forward onto his toes, at an angle that would send anyone else but an earth ninja toppling to the floor. Cam twisted his upper body, taking in the box of socket covers still to be plugged in, the box of wires and levers hogging his desk chair, and the four hard drives still to defrag. Cam's stomach wrapped around his spine, and squeezed until he could taste acid. He stretched out his fingers, willing Dustin not to notice how they shook as the cramps subsided.

"I'll totally be finished in time for practice," Dustin said from behind him. "I am down with this carpentry shit."

Cam tucked his arms back around his chest and shrugged, shifting his weight from his left to his right foot. His heart shuddered in his chest. He couldn’t stop his sight from bouncing off the counter on his computer to the shelves he'd nailed to the wall to the box lid currently housing his father and rocketing back again. His breath seemed so loud all of a sudden.

"I could," Dustin said, from Cam's left. "I could help out a little, I guess. Free up your time."

Cam swallowed, and looked over. Dustin had moved to stand at his shoulder. He was bouncing on his toes a little, holding the bag of guinea pig pellets like they were a baby. The pet shop bag swung between them, smacking back and forth from Cam's leg to Dustin's. Dustin smiled, and Cam turned away. The counter on the computer screen at his desk now read completion at fifty-nine percent.

Cam sighed. He took off his glasses, and pressed the heel of his right hand into his eyes: left, then right. He really...he really did need to get back to work. Temper tantrums were for people who could afford them, and he couldn't anymore; not really. Heat blasted over his cheeks as Cam resettled his glasses. God, and in front of Dustin of all people.

He swallowed, and nodded. "I would appreciate that," he said, keeping watch over the tumbling hourglass on his computer screen. "Thank you."

Dustin chuckled, and the pet shop bag smacked into Cam's knee. Cam glanced over to find Dustin beaming at him, and waggling his thick black brows. Dustin tilted his head, and the overhead lights turned his smile from sunny to warm. Cam blinked, and it was gone.

"Any time, pal o' mine," Dustin said, backing up a step. "I'll get started over here..." he swung the bag in the direction of Dad's box lid, "and you do your super-fly tech guy shtick all...wherever you do that, 'kay?"

Cam licked his lips, and swallowed until his throat cleared of its sudden obstruction. He walked back to his control center, bent down, and picked up the shoebox full of socket covers. They rattled against each other with sharp plastic clicks.

"I have to go finish up the rooms behind the armory," he said, shifting his weight to his back foot.

Dustin looked up from the pet shop bag, and grinned. "I got plenty to hold me until you get back," he said. "Hey, do you think sensei would like a terrace, or a veranda? I mean, actually, do you think he needs a closet? He's got like, every, chihuahua Jedi costume Shane could dig up from his house, and no closet! I watched this show, right, where these two dudes were buying a house in Florida..."

Dustin ducked his head back into the sack, as Cam turned and started walking. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, higher with every step, listening to Dustin's voice follow him almost all the way down the corridor to the armory.


End file.
